It had been five long, miserable days since Dadi’s birthday—five days since Manav Oberoi—Mr. Perfect Smile and Cute Pouts—shattered the fragile trust I’d foolishly placed in him. He’d told Dadi the truth about our fake relationship and left her heartbroken. The image of her teary eyes and the disappointment etched on her face replayed in my mind on an endless loop, haunting me.
Trusting him was my mistake—a monumental, irreversible mistake. Now, he could call a thousand more times, send a million more messages, but I wouldn’t fall for his charm again.
Myra reached out and squeezed my hand. “Kiara, you’re one of the strongest people I know, but you can’t run away from your feelings forever.”
“I’m not running.” I groaned, throwing the blanket over my face. “I’m just… relocating my energy.”
“Relocating your energy?” she snorted. “You’re relocating your heart into a vault and throwing away the key. That’s not strength—it’s fear.”
I peeked out from the edge of the blanket. “Fear? Of what? Getting my heart stomped on by Mr. Perfect Hair and Smile again?”
“No,” she said firmly. “Fear of actually being happy. You’re terrified because he saw the real you—messy, broken parts—and he didn’t run. You think it’s easier to push him away than to take a chance.”
I sat up, running a hand through my hair, my patience unraveling. “Myra, I don’t need a therapy session right now. Stop talking.”
Sleep had become a distant memory, my swollen eyes and tear-streaked face a testament to my foolishness. Myra, bless her relentless heart, hadn’t left my side for a single moment. She claimed she was here to cheer me up, but it was mostly to ensure I didn’t implode from the stress.
And stress? Oh, there was plenty. My book launch was five days away. Maggie, my ever-dedicated manager, had been calling nonstop to drag me into interviews and meetings. But how could I possibly face the world looking like this? Baggy eyes, blotchy skin, and a soul weighed down by heartbreak weren’t exactly the makings of a confident author.
In a week, I’d be leaving for France—a fresh start, I had told myself. A new chapter. No Manav Oberoi. No fake relationships. Just me, my dreams, and a country far, far away from all of this chaos.
If only my heart would stop betraying me every time I thought of him.
My phone buzzed again—It was Maggie this time. I picked it up with a groan.
“Kiara, where are you?” Maggie’s voice was exasperated. “The first interview is in an hour, and we need you on camera looking fabulous—”
“I’ll be ready,” I muttered.
“See you at the studio.”
____________
I hate this. I hate every bit of this—this constant ache in my chest that refuses to leave. I hate that he’s still here outside my house, every night, waiting, as if he hasn’t already shattered every part of me. But more than anything,I hate that I miss him.
Why can’t I just let go?
I leaned against the window frame, watching him through the thin curtains. Manav Oberoi, sitting in his car, outside my house, head leaned back, eyes closed, exhaustion etched on his face. His tie was undone, his hair slightly messy—he looked nothing like the composed, powerful man everyone else saw. He looked… broken. And my stupid heart clenched again.
Why is he doing this? What is he trying to prove?
The tears I thought had dried days ago returned, stinging my eyes. I turned away from the window, pressing my back against the wall, trying to steady my breath.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Manav wasn’t supposed to become the center of my world. He wasn’t supposed to make me believe, even for a moment, that I deserved more than what life has always given me—loss, disappointment, heartbreak.
But then there was the way he looked at me, like I was his entire universe. The way he touched me, so gentle yet so intense, as if I were something precious. The way he made me laugh when I wanted to cry. The way he made me feel—whole.
And now, I don’t know what to do.
Shit.
I grabbed the pillow from my bed and screamed into it. The dam broke then, and the tears I’d been holding in for days spilled freely.
29 ♥?Kiara
The venue was breathtaking, a dreamlike setting brought to life. Glittering chandeliers illuminated the spacious hall, their light reflecting off the polished marble floors. Rows of plush chairs lined the stage, and towering floral arrangements filled the air with the subtle scent of lilies and roses. A giant banner with the title of my new book hung behind the stage, my name printed boldly in gold letters. The venue buzzed with activity as reporters, fans, and photographers filled the space.
